


Auguries of Innocence

by HuldraK



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Brothers, Childhood, Gen, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24163297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuldraK/pseuds/HuldraK
Summary: Everyone has a beginning in innocence. The days of childhood held close by the Sparda brothers, yet forgotten.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. To Spring

The wind blew through the window ever so gently, fluttering the pages, forcing the little hands to shift and forced them still. Pale brows furrowed at this unwelcome disturbance. It was such a lovely day outside, soft sunshine peered through the crack and cast its light onto the floor, beckoning. The boy showed no notice, so engrossed in his book, poetry like songs that comfort his heart. 

It was a gift, one that he cherished, so much so he had scribbled his name in the back to make it truly his. A piece of kindness from someone who understood. A little peace.

Unfortunately his peace was short lived, for another pair of feet raced his way, body leapt onto the sofa with wooden swords in arms. The young uninvited guest grinned as he awkwardly swept hair away from his face.

‘Vergil! Let’s go play outside!’ 

Vergil took a deep breath, exhaling discontent through his mouth. 

‘No.’

‘Come on! You’ve already been reading all day!’

‘I said no.’

Dante scooted closer and craned his head around to see what exactly had ensnared his big brother so. Pictures and words, none of it made any sense and sounded endlessly boring. 

‘What is this anyways? Is it a story book? It looks boring,’ Dante stuck his head in closer, blocking the view and gave Vergil a face full of hair. 

Worming himself away from Dante’s intrusion, he corrected, ‘it’s poetry.’

‘What, like rhymes?’ 

Silence befell them. Vergil had resorted to ignoring his brother, curling up against the arm of the sofa with one foot hanging down to the floor, barely touching it. The younger pouted, eyed his brother, eyed the book in his brother’s hand. 

When Dante snatched it, all hell broke loose. The wooden swords flew and clattered against the carpet. Both boys struggled, refusing to let go of one another or the quarrel, until a gentle voice called out to them.

‘Vergil? Dante?’ 

Their mother’s arrival ended their battle, her smile soothing their fiery dispute like a cool wind on a hot summer’s day. She bent down to meet her sons, both pouting now, standing before their mother both indignant and unyielding.

‘He won’t come play with me!’ Dante protested.

‘I want to read-’

‘But you always do that!’

‘That’s not a reason to fight now, is it?’ Eva intervened.

‘But-!’

‘Be a good boy and go wait for me by the door. I won’t be a moment,’ she smiled at Dante, caressing his hair. His pout deepened but he did as he was told, collecting his toy swords and left.

Knowing what was coming, Vergil cast his eyes down, lips pressed tight in a line, hands clasped tight behind his back. Dante always got what he wanted in the end. All he wanted was a moment of peace to enjoy his treasure. But his mother simply picked up his book and examined it, opening it up to a page adorned with drawings of a tiger under a bare tree, the poem written in exquisite calligraphy. 

‘So this is what you have been up to lately. It’s very beautiful,’ she smiled. 

Vergil pressed his lips harder to hide his own smile, a losing battle as he finally gazed up and found hers. 

‘I would love to have a look at it while you play with Dante,’ and there it is. His smile faded.

‘Why do I have to do it right now?’

‘You are his big brother. Big brothers look after their little brothers... He just wants to spend some time with you, that’s all. ’

‘But who looks after me then?’ The little boy contended.

Eva’s face fell a little, but before she could reply, an impatient voice interrupted, ‘hurry up already, Vergil!’

Defeated, Vergil sighed, hesitated for a moment. 

‘I’m coming.’

He ran over to his little brother, who bounced towards the door with glee, leaving his mother behind.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it's looking like a short series instead...


	2. To Summer

The melody of the violin emanated from the observatory, delicate, wistful, one may even compare it to the voice of an angel. Hard to believe they came from a boy, merely seven years old, standing close to his father’s brass telescope practicing for what was hours now. There used to be a teacher, a kind man, a virtuoso that was no longer in this world. Vergil always looked forward to his arrival, legs swinging from the sofa, eager to see what new piece the teacher would bring, but that little happiness was no more. 

At the door, peeking through the crack, Dante watched his brother intently. Vergil barely spoke since yesterday, when their mother broke the news that the teacher would not return. The elder Sparda boy, unfortunately, had found out exactly why the man would no longer return. He did not quite understand death, the best he had were dictionaries and books in his father’s study, but one thing was clear, there would be no more lessons… and no more teacher. 

Normally they would fight by now, after all the incessant harassment and whining from Dante, yet today his brother barely reacted, no annoyance, no quip, nothing. He tried everything in his arsenal,  _ everything _ , and none of it worked. 

_ It’s not right,  _ Dante thought to himself, still not daring to step inside his father’s study where he found the silence and tidiness so uncomfortable. He was at a loss, needing to do something, anything, that would fix this. The failure was overwhelming, hurting him, and only one person could make things right again. 

‘ _ Mom _ !’

Their mother was in the garden, tending to her roses and peonies with a heavy heart. The poor child had been playing music all day and barely spoke, hidden away in his father’s sanctuary. She missed her husband, but all she could do was hope that he would return to them soon. Eva loved her son dearly, both of them equally, but Vergil was always hard to reach, always so far away somehow, just like his father. 

Her other little boy, however, was still full of energy, calling out for her. He ran up to her looking all upset, little face so glum, rocking on his feet searching for sympathy.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ She asked, voice soft and soothing.

‘Vergil won’t come out and he won’t talk to me,’ the young Sparda replied, pouting. 

‘He is a little sad right now, I think,’ she reached out and caressed her son’s little cheek.

‘Why is he sad?’ 

‘Well, the teacher can’t come over anymore. He always looks forward to that.’

‘But why won’t he talk to me?’ The poor child was so heartbroken, so forlorn, pale blue eyes marred by guilt, as if the fault was his own. 

It was too much to bear for his mother, who embraced him in her arms. He eagerly returned the embrace, burying his face into her shoulder. 

‘Sometimes it is very hard to talk to others when you are sad,’  _ especially for Vergil,  _ she thought. 

‘But he won’t play with me either. Playing always makes me feel better.’

‘Let’s go back in the house and come up with something to make Vergil feel better,’ Eva pressed a kiss on Dante’s forehead, took his hand, and together they made their way.

‘Can we have cake? Vergil likes cakes,’ Dante perked up, bouncing on his heels, filled to the brim with excitement. 

‘That’s a great idea. Let’s go make a cake.’

‘Chocolate! Vergil likes chocolate, too!’

Eva laughed, ‘then we will make a chocolate cake.’

The music had stopped for a while now, and silence seized the room, interrupted by occasional chirping of birds from the opened window. The presence of their father still lingered, work and notes spread over the desktop and telescope left in the position Vergil last remembered. His father had shown him what he was looking at, a star, the Morning Star it was called. He said it was nice to look up sometimes, to admire the beauty of things so far, so unknown. There was a book about stars, about astronomy, as his father called it, somewhere on the shelves. 

Sometimes Vergil would peek out the window, wanting to catch his father’s return, wanting to run out to greet him and ask all about his travels and his adventures. Not that he spoke of what he did beyond the gates, but he would tell Vergil about the different places, different cities, their beauty and their quirks alike. Dante always pressed about the adventures, about grand battles and dragons, and their father would smile. 

The rooms felt so empty today, emptier that they have ever been, and so quiet. It was unbearable, yet he could not endure the thought of being around his brother or his mother either. He needed to be strong, just like his father,  _ strong and brave _ , but he never felt weaker, more afraid.

_ If the teacher could not come back, what of his father? Would he come back? _

The creak of the opening door pulled Vergil from his thoughts, the perpetrator was who else but Dante. A huge grin plastered on the younger Sparda’s face, stained head to toe by something red and brown, their origin held in Dante’s hands. They were cupcakes, chocolate with cream and strawberry on top, one of them has a bite mark on the side. All Vergil could do was stare as Dante hurried over to join him on the floor by the window, not sure how to react to the batter monster who was almost a cupcake himself with the sheer amount coated on him. 

‘I made cake! Well, mom helped me. It’s smaller than I thought it would be, though,’ Dante shove the unmarked cake at Vergil, who awkwardly accepted.

It did, at least, smelled like chocolate. 

Dante didn’t bother waiting for his brother and just started happily chomping down on his own. The sight of Dante eating was a wonder in its own right, the sheer amount of mess the boy made qualified him for the gold medal and he would have won, too. The tidier of the two was unsure, not quite hungry but at the same time, the soft sweet smell of chocolate and strawberry made his mouth watered. 

First he tasted it, licked a bit of the cream, the smooth milky taste melted on his tongue. Soon enough, he ate it, picking at it slowly part by part, not wanting to mess up his clothes. Though he was interrupted by a strawberry shoved into his face. Dante was full of smiles, a hand extended, giving his brother the biggest piece he saved, smothered in cream. 

For the first time that day Vergil smiled, gingerly picking it up at the stem, eagerly biting into it, the overwhelming amount of juice taking him by surprise. 

  
Eva merely watched them from the door, smiling, too, warmed by the sight. For the very least, they would have one another,  _ no matter what happens _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It is DONE. Thank you for stopping by!


End file.
